


One hook-up

by belmanoir



Series: Twenty Dates [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, the demon is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 00:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11909346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: Roman and Finn hook up after Finn and Bray's match at Summerslam '17. Afterwards, they have a run-in with Seth and Dean.When Finn comes through the curtain, Roman is waiting. He smiles and claps, the sound bright in his big hands. The demon, already pleased with itself, roars with joyful possessiveness. Finn agrees. ROMAN! MINE!





	One hook-up

**Author's Note:**

> Um. This is definitely part of the "Twenty Dates" series but the timeline doesn't totally make sense because "Ten More Dates" goes AU after Summerslam '16 and ignores Finn's injury, whereas this story includes Finn's injury. Sorry. Just handwave something, it's not important.

When Finn comes through the curtain, Roman is waiting. He smiles and claps, the sound bright in his big hands.

The demon, already pleased with itself, roars with joyful possessiveness. Finn agrees. _ROMAN! MINE!_ He leaps and Roman catches him, swings him around. “Let’s get out of here,” Roman whispers.

Finn knows he usually wouldn’t do this but...why? His body lights up, heats and blossoms like a great spiked flower. _Orgasm!_ He follows Roman into some closet full of brooms and buckets and the smell of bleach. Ugh, bleach, but Roman gets on his knees, still smiling. Offering tribute, loving him, beautiful, his hair shines like wet black paint and his mouth is a flame. Finn grits his teeth and snarls and this is his reward. Words are far away, so he _feels_ , every spatter and brushstroke of pleasure. The demon writhes and Roman licks. Finn shuts his eyes and orgasm pours over him in sheets, red and black against the inside of his eyelids.

His chest heaves. He’s on the floor. The demon yawns, sated. Roman pulls him against his side. “Sing that thing,” he says. “That Irish thing. Come on.” He holds Finn’s head against his shoulder as he takes out his cock and Finn wants to touch it, wants to shrug off his hand, but...sleepy. He sings the demon to sleep, the rhythm of Roman’s hand like a metronome.

Finn blinks. Did he just hook up with Roman in a janitor's closet? Yes, because Roman’s shoulder shudders under him, come spurting over his fingers. Roman sighs and lets his head thud against the wall. This was a dumb thing to do but at the moment, Finn can’t really complain. The demon is still drifting off, his satisfaction permeating Finn’s body, their twin contentments twining around each other. 

He kisses Roman’s shoulder and sits up. “This new paint stays on better but it’s a bitch to get off.”

Roman looks down at himself. “Have I got any on me?” 

Finn laughs at him trying to see his own neck. “Just a smidge. Come along then, you can use my baby shampoo.”

They emerge from the supply closet and head down the hall. They turn a corner and almost run into Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, flushed and sweating and happy, with the tag titles.

They all freeze. Finn looks at Roman.

Roman’s face—pain—cold waves of it—the demon open his eyes and snarls. Finn leaps for Seth and Roman’s arms go around his waist. Finn doesn’t want to hurt Roman. He doesn’t want to get in a brawl backstage. He wants to rip out Rollins and Ambrose’s hearts and lay them at Roman’s feet. Roman wouldn’t like it but Finn would. Finn would be glad.

“You should get a leash for that thing.” Rollins looks shaken. Coward. “I think I’ve got an old one of yours around somewhere, want to borrow it?”

Roman’s jaw and shoulders tense. Rollins is the world’s biggest wanker and the demon is so wildly furious it takes Finn a moment to sort out hatred of the idea of a leash for himself and rage at the implication that Rollins and Roman used to...that Rollins is trying to hurt Roman with the memory...mine! He snaps his jaw at Rollins and smacks Roman’s enormous arms holding him tight. He snuggles back a little too though. _Mine. Not yours._ Rollins doesn’t like that, ha! 

Dean walks past them with an apologetic grimace, giving the demon a wide berth, but he doesn’t meet Roman’s eyes. Roman’s pain is giving the demon a headache.

Roman’s arms relax when the rest of the Shield has disappeared down the hall in awkward silence. “Sorry.”

Finn stumbles when he tries to step away. The demon, reawakened, buzzes like a tired kid who doesn’t want to go to sleep. This is dangerous. “I need to go,” he manages firmly, and walks carefully back to the locker room to take off his paint. He drives home, knuckles white on the wheel, head aching. 

Later, clear-eyed and sore from Bray Wyatt’s blows, the timing begins to strike him as suspicious. 

Roman’s tired and bruised tonight too, and probably pissed about not winning his match. They can talk in the morning.

***

He waits until ten and texts Roman, asks if they can meet for coffee. They wander out of the coffee shop and find a bench. The day is warm already, but not that terrible muggy New York hot it will be in a few hours. 

Roman doesn’t say anything. He seems to know he’s in the doghouse. Finn isn’t sure he knows why, though.

Finn looks at his coffee cup, turns it in his hands, looks at his tennis shoes. At Roman’s tennis shoes. At Roman’s hairy, golden calves. Despite careful moisturizing, Finn’s skin feels dry and tender where he scrubbed away the paint.

“Y’know,” he starts, “maybe I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you. After I got back from injury, I told myself I wouldn’t get emotionally involved.” He can’t sort out if he’s just being honest, or if he wants to hurt Roman’s feelings.

Roman called him once, after the operation. Flirted a little over text. Then he got back with Seth and disappeared off the face of the earth.

“I’m sorry,” Roman says. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“So you’ve told me.” Finn sighs. “I know it’s important to manage expectations in a secondary relationship, but does it seem to you like we keep having to manage them downwards? Did you...Roman, did you hook up with me yesterday as a distraction from Dean and Seth’s tag match?”

Roman takes in a sharp breath. It’s like he thinks everyone else is as oblivious as he is. 

Finn wishes it didn’t bother him. 

“I mean, I didn’t want to watch it,” Roman says. “But that doesn’t mean I was just—using you, or something.”

Finn doesn’t feel any less like shit. He’s not even sure why he feels so bad. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel better, and thinking that being with someone will help.

The demon experiences reality differently than he does. But a dim impression of Roman’s pain lingers. 

“I don’t know how to explain this. I know we’re just...” He doesn’t want to finish the sentence. “I don’t expect us to be each other’s number one priority. But I’m not thinking about anybody else when I’m with you. The demon—” He remembers his joyful rush at Roman’s smile. Roman’s _fake_ smile, and Finn was too out of it to realize. “You didn’t lie to me, but I feel as if you did. I feel stupid for not knowing better. I don’t like feeling stupid.”

Roman sets his coffee cup down and puts his head in his hands. Finn waits. “I didn’t want to drag you down with my mess after your big win. I guess I did anyway.” He straightens, clasping his hands between his knees. “I’m sorry.”

He says it like penance, not an apology. He’s ready to take his punishment like a man. 

_If you need help, I will help you. Whatever it takes,_ he’d said, eyes boring into Finn. Ready to wrestle the demon for Finn’s soul, no questions asked. Unnecessary, but sweet. So why are minor but necessary challenges like saying _How can I make it up to you?_ beyond his capabilities? It’s clear he doesn’t expect to be forgiven. He never does. 

That’s why he stopped calling after he took Seth back, too. Because he just assumed Finn couldn’t forgive that. 

Finn can’t forget what else Roman said, that first time with the demon: _I feel clean._ As if he’s damaged goods, now Seth Rollins has broken his heart. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Finn offers, not expecting to be believed. “You just give up too easily.”

Roman laughs, startled. “Tell that to Braun Strowman.” But he eyes Finn sidelong, considering. He’s not _completely_ oblivious; he knows being told not to give up is a good sign. 

He crouches on the sidewalk in front of Finn, so Finn has to meet his eyes. Finn keeps his face carefully neutral. “I don’t think about anybody else when I’m with you, either. I guess that’s why I did it. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing romantic about compartmentalization.” But Finn does feels better. “I just want you to be honest with me. I don’t like surprises.” He taps his chest, smiling in spite of himself. “And neither does he.”

Roman retrieves his coffee, and slouches into a sitting position at Finn’s feet. “The truth is a lot to lay on a guy who’d rather not get emotionally involved.”

“Fair enough.” Finn considers. If he’s being honest, he already _is_ emotionally involved. So he can walk away before it gets worse, or he can lean into it. “Are _you_ emotionally involved?”

A smile tugs at the corner of Roman’s mouth. “Yeah.” He leans against the bench, tilting his head up. “And for the record, it was a real turn-on watching you put away Bray Wyatt like that. He didn’t know what hit him.”

Finn smiles. “I think he knew exactly what hit him.” That’s why Bray was afraid.

Roman wasn’t. He was turned on. Finn wonders what it would be like to wrestle Roman when the demon’s awake. 

No, Finn doesn’t want to walk away. He definitely wants to stay here, drinking coffee and watching Roman Reigns watch some pigeons fighting over a Dorito. No one ever called him risk-averse. “How are you?” he asks. “Really.”

Roman considers. “Not great.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to add to the drama.”

Roman shrugs. “It’s okay.”

Finn shifts so his legs are touching Roman, and Roman rests his head on Finn’s thigh. “Yeah, it is,” Finn says, flushing—in the normal self-conscious nerd way, not the demon way. “Okay, I mean.”

Roman takes a deep breath. “Good.”

Finn cracks up. “Yeah, it is.”

Roman gives him a half-grin, and something in Finn goes pitter-patter. “Hey, you knew I was the strong, silent type when you met me.”

Finn pretends to be offended. “So am I, I’ll have you know.”

Roman laughs. “Oh yeah, you’re John Wayne cool and James Dean tough.”

Finn isn’t sure if Roman is joking or honestly got it backwards. He scritches Roman behind the ears, though, and giggles to himself. Sometimes a joke is funnier when you don’t tell it. Why is that? He’ll have to discuss it with Sami later.

For now, he drinks his coffee, watches the pigeons, and is emotionally involved with Roman Reigns.


End file.
